


A Whole Lot of Something

by Brosephine (SaturnOolaa)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, D/s, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-16
Updated: 2015-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-07 19:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3179705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaturnOolaa/pseuds/Brosephine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't the first time. They had done it several in the last few weeks, when it had seemed like a good idea through a drunken haze. Not like this, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Whole Lot of Something

**Author's Note:**

> When inspiration hits, there is no time for editing! So enjoy this very short story about my new OTP.

It wasn't the first time. They had done it several in the last few weeks, when it had seemed like a good idea through a drunken haze. Not like this, though. 

The Iron Bull had taken him aside early in the evening, when they were both perfectly sober, and given him one of those rare, serious looks that forced him to take notice.

"Dorian," he said, low enough to go unheard in the noise of the tavern. "Do you trust me?"

A million witty responses sprang to mind, but Dorian had known that to take the question lightly would be to end whatever was happening between them. Instead, he had paused for a moment, adding up all he knew of the man before him.

"Yes," he had replied, slowly, a little surprised by the answer. "I suppose I do. Why do you ask?"

The Bull's solemn expression had dissolved into a smile that was almost a smirk. "Come to my room tonight, and I'll show you."

"Perhaps," Dorian had said, lightly, as though the whole exchange meant nothing. But he didn't drink that evening. He waited until the Bull left the tavern, and then followed him across the courtyard, up the stairs. 

Neither of them said a word until they reached the door. Then the Bull turned to him. "You have a watch word?"

It took Dorian a moment to understand what he meant. "...Not as such, no."

" _Katoh_ ," responded the Bull, looking him in the eyes. "Anything happens in this room you don't want, just say the word and we stop. And don't try to tough it out, either. I don't plan on hurting you."

Dorian nodded. "A benevolent conqueror, then," he said, wryly.

The smile on the Iron Bull's face was both frightening and exciting.

"Oh, I didn't say that."

He had been with more than a few men who wanted to dominate him. None had been anything like the Bull. He was forceful with Dorian, almost brutal, but there was a clear strategy behind his actions. Ruthlessly, he sought out everything Dorian needed most, no matter how hidden, how shameful, and gave it to him. His own satisfaction seemed to stem from watching Dorian overcome by pleasure at his hands.

"Is this what you want?" the Iron Bull asked in a low, thick voice, lips brushing against Dorian's ear. 

And Dorian, stripped of all his defences, was able only to nod and whimper "Yes."

The Bull got up afterwards to bring him a cup of water. He drained it, then collapsed face down on the bed in a kind of stupor. His arms were aching from being held in place, and his whole body felt strangely light without the Bull's weight pinning him to the bed. He would die before ever admitting it, but he had never before felt so satisfied.

"I am never going to move again," he said, to the pillow beneath his face.

The Bull's footsteps came back towards the bed, and it creaked with his weight as he sat down. 

"You're going to spend the rest of your life in my bed?" Suddenly, there was a warm washcloth pressed between Dorian's legs. "I mean, I can't say I would mind, but I assumed you would want something fancier. Something you could lounge around on."

Dorian turned his head to look at the Bull over his shoulder. He had the washcloth in one big hand and a bowl of steaming water in the other. Dorian realized that he must have had a kettle on the fire this whole time, that he had planned that far in advance.

"I do," he said, trying to sound nonchalant as the Bull wiped his lower body clean of sweat and come. The care he took in touching Dorian now felt almost more intimate than the sex had, and Dorian didn't know what to think about that. "You're going to carry me back to **my** bed, and I will spend the rest of my life there."

The Iron Bull kept at his work, then stopped, rather suddenly. Dorian wasn't sure why until he realized the Bull was looking at the imprints of his own fingers, where he had grabbed Dorian's ass earlier. 

"How are you feeling? Everything all right?"

"Fine. Excellent." Ridiculously, his pride was a little hurt by the question. "This isn't my first time getting a bit roughed up, you know. The Imperium is a hotbed of sexual deviance, simply brimming with vices of every description. We invented this sort of thing."

The Bull laughed, a big sound that echoed in the high-roofed chamber. "Oh yeah?" He put down the washcloth, but his hand settled on Dorian's back, his thumb rubbing heavy little circles across Dorian's skin.

"Of course, there can easily be... misunderstandings," continued Dorian, because talking was better than focusing on this unexpected display of tenderness. "Once, at the Circle in Vyrantium, I was approached by a classmate whom I had been admiring from afar. His words lead me to believe he had certain tastes which I would have been happy to indulge. When I showed up to meet him, he blindfolded me. The next thing I knew, I was lying naked in the middle of a summoning circle, surrounded by hooded figures, and he was coming at me with a knife the size of my forearm!"

He laughed, but the Bull didn't.

"You know," he said slowly, his hand still on Dorian's back, "that's... not actually a funny story."

Dorian sighed. 

"No. No, I suppose it's not. Well, fortunately the ritual required a **willing** blood sacrifice, so they let me go once I explained the whole thing. Then, the next day, I summoned a spirit of fear and set it on him in the middle of classes. It was petty of me, I'll admit, but the sound of his terrified screaming as he fled the room is a treasured memory to this day."

A grin spread across the Bull's face, nearly ear to ear. "Now that part, I kind of like."

Dorian smiled back, and then shivered. He was cooling off rapidly. "I suppose it would be too much to expect you to find a blanket? It's freezing in here. Perhaps the giant hole in the ceiling has something to do with that."

"Tell you what." Once more, the bed creaked, and the Bull's footsteps echoed around the room. Soon after, a thick woollen blanket landed over him. "I've seen you move shit around with magic. If you want to haul some lumber up there and fix the hole yourself, you go right on ahead, big guy."

Dorian gave a little shrug of his shoulders. "I'd love to, but I can't. I'm never moving again, remember?"

Bull came back towards the bed. This time, though, instead of sitting down, he crawled under the blanket and laid down on his side, facing Dorian. There was a small smile on his face Dorian couldn't quite read.

Very gently, he put his hand on Dorian's head and stroked his hair, as though petting him. "You did good." 

Dorian knew, at times like this, that he was on the edge of a precipice. He should leave. He should have left already, before any of this had a chance to sink in, before he grew used to these inexplicable moments of kindness.

But then the Bull pulled him onto his side and wrapped his arms around him, pressing their bodies together, and he was so warm, and it was easy to forget about what must come afterwards and just let himself be held.

"Yes," he said, forcing his mind empty of everything but the heat, the closeness. "Well. Goodnight, then, Bull."

"Goodnight, Dorian," came the reply from behind him, as the Bull's lips once again brushed against his ear.


End file.
